Different
by foxredwinter
Summary: We plan, we hope, we dream. Then things go differently. How do you accept different?
1. Different

_Disclaimer: I own nothing other than the plot, such as it is. These are merely the ramblings of someone who is surprisingly agreeing with Stephen King that the great JKR should not kill off our most beloved hero, Harry. So until that book lands in my mailbox, I shall entertain myself with these stories. _

* * *

It is surprising to find a young, not even twenty year old, fresh out of school, hero of the world, and incredibly popular person sitting at home on a Saturday night.

However, the truth of those statements was exactly why she was at home, in her pajamas sitting in the dark of her room with only the light from the television illuminating her face, faded shirt, and overstuffed chair. Furthermore, as the light flickered, a strobe light effect occurred as she rubbed her right temple with the fingers of her right hand. The other one, still bandaged, laid gently on a pillow across her lap. This young woman had spent the day popping, literally due to the ease of Apparition, from party to party. Some were celebrating the end of the war, others were celebrating graduation from Hogwarts, and some were attempting to do both while mourning loved ones lost. The business of the day took its toll and so she was in a state that managed to combine contentment and discomfort.

Finally, a sigh, disrupted the film. "This will never do," the young girl breathed out as she ran her good hand through her hair. "I will never settle down at this rate."

She pulled herself out of the chair, crossed the room, picked up her wand, and tapped a drawer in a desk. The drawer popped open revealing a simple book with a plain, worn leather cover. She rummaged around in the same area for a pen before a triumphant, "Finally!" was muttered as she pulled out a pen.

Settling back into the chair she began to chew on the top of her pen until inspiration struck and she began to write. Following the date, some brave soul, for brave you would have to be to read Hermione Granger's journal without her permission, you could read this:

_More parties today. By noon I had attended five with more following the lunch hour. It is truly amazing how many different ways people find to celebrate. One party was themed like a tropical island; another was simply an excuse to become utterly inebriated. The worst was the one where all people could do was condole with me about Ron._

_There are moments, when surrounded by classmates or my muggle family that I can forget what happened just two weeks ago. The different life my family leads and the different experience my peers had of the 'war' makes me believe the battle was merely a scene from something I saw at the cinema. It is when I see the empty seats at the Burrow or the sling on my arm or the haunting expression in Harry's eyes that I am so forcefully reminded of all the ways a person can grieve._

Her writing was interrupted when a pop echoed from her hallway. In any other circumstances, her wand would have been immediately pointed at the person. Instead she merely said, "Hi, Harry," as she closed the book.

The young man, who had just entered, watched the book float back to its drawer and seal shut with a flick of the girl's wand.

Harry shook his head, "Hermione, what could you possibly have to write in there that I wouldn't already know about?"

"Harry," she said as if to a child, "there are some things that you will never know about me. "Besides, a girl has to have some secrets, even from her best friend."

"As long as I know more of your secrets than anyone else, I'm fine with that," Harry said as he flopped on the chair next to Hermione's. "Why did you leave the Burrow so early? Mrs. Weasley was worried about you."

Hermione sighed, likely for the hundredth tiem that day and the millionth since the battle, "I know she is worried Harry. It was just such a long day." She unconsciously started to rub her temple again.

Now, Harry may not be the most brilliant in his interactions with the opposite sex, but courtesy of all his training and seven years of friendship wth the girl before him, he quickly noticed more than fatigue.

"Really?" he asked to keep her talking and staring blankly at the screen. She had paused the film when he came.

"Yeah, it was just such a day. It is so strange to celebrate graduations. You know? There was so much death and destruction; somehow it feels like I should be doing something different from celebrating and drinking butter beers and ale. Then I think that it is the last thing they would want. I know Ron of all people would want something different for me than moping around; he was the one to love attention and parties. Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione finally looked over and saw Harry was no long in the chair.

During her short monologue Harry had managed to fluff a few pillows on the sofa, conjure up a glass, silently 'accio' two bottles of potions, and cast a cooling and dampening charm on a cloth. All those stays in the hospital wing paid off, he was proficient at basic medicinal tasks.

"Hermione, come here," Harry commanded.

She began to form an objection and realized that Harry was part of an exceptionally short list of people who could offer a command and she would follow it. As much as she would hate to admit it, he seemed to be right at this particular moment.

He sat at one end of the sofa and pulled her down next to him, gently so as to avoid her still sore arm. Silently he handed her the potions. She recognized them as the ones she was prescribed for the residual pain from the final battle. After finishing her doses, she quickly drank down the glass of water as the potions hard a particularly nasty aftertaste. He then guided her head to the pillow he had placed in his lap. He placed the cloth on her forehead.

As he drew a few stray locks of her hair away from the damp cloth, he seemed to become lost in his thoughts. For some time the two sat in silence. Harry continued to play with her hair and smooth the tension from Hermione's temples.

"I didn't expect this," Hermione finally broke the silence. Her voice was so soft, Harry nearly missed her words. "This is not what I thought life would be. When I first got on that train, when I was such a snot to Ron and you, when you two saved me from the troll…this is not what I expected. You know what I wrote in my journal the day before I left for Hogwarts? I read it all the time…I had it all planned out. I would graduate first in my class. I would work my way up through the Ministry. I would become the Minister of Magic."

She stopped there. Harry didn't know what to say so he merely continued his ministrations.

"It is all so different. Sure, I graduated, but I really don't care too much for that. I've got awards, tokens of admiration, and medals. I could have any job at the Ministry, likely even the Minister's and it would be mine tomorrow. Couldn't care less. When everything turns out differently from how you had it planned, what do you do?"

For a few minutes Harry stayed silent. Eventually he drew Hermione into a sitting position and wrapped her in his arms. Holding her tight he simply said, "I don't know."

"When I got on that train, I thought it would be my salvation. I was free from the Dursleys and suddenly had the chance to live," here a coarse chuckle interrupted. Hermione reached up with her good hand to place it on Harry's cheek. He continued, "Hermione, I don't know what you do when all your hopes are wrecked and your plans go awry. The only thing I can think of is that we have to make different plans now, find different hopes."

The two friends continued in silence for an indeterminate time. Both were ruminating on how much life they had lived and how different the future was from their childhood dreams. Both were searching for something different and they were both unsure as to what that different was.

* * *

AN: Hmmm...much as I hate AN, here one is. This is, well what it is, not sure if it is going anywhere or such. Must get back to _Firsts_ and _An Abundance_. A month of migraines and lesser headaches have made things difficult...oddly unsure if I want to continue this or not... 


	2. Different Home

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything but a simple idea. Characters and such below to the great authoress JKR who has me eagerly awaiting a package on Saturday..._

* * *

Landing neatly in the parlor, nothing new at all, Hermione arrived at Harry's. Brushing the dust and ash off herself she made her way from the hearth to the hallway. Just as she was about to call out Harry's name, the cacophony coming from the kitchen gave away his location. She headed down the hallway ignoring the rather derogatory comments made by the portrait of Sirius' mother behind that drab drape.

Hermione encountered quite the sight as she walked into the kitchen. A large quantity of dishes, cookware, foodstuffs, and other unidentifiable objects were scattered throughout the entire space. Next to the sink stood a young man, aged 20 years with haunting green eyes that belied his age.

"Harry, whatever are you doing?" Hermione asked in wonder.

"Apparently nothing of use to society!" he snapped.

"Oh," Hermione quickly assembled a correct assessment of the situation. Today's paper held an article recounting what became of the heroes of the war. While many others went on to take Ministry jobs or be memorialized in marble tombs, Harry had chosen otherwise. While Auror was his previous job of choice, the reality of facing all the evil magic in the world in one exceptionally dark night meant he had little taste to repeat that on a routine basis. Instead he chose a life behind the spotlight the world had foisted upon him. A life that few understood.

"Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione asked again as she crossed the room.

Harry looked at her ready to snap again. However, her expression clearly showed her understanding and the fact that her question merely was relating to the current culinary state of affairs.

"Well, cooking," he said.

"What?" she asked.

"Basically everything that I could find to work with. Want a piece of pie?" he asked with a half grin. He floated the pie tin containing pumpkin pie over.

"Think I'll stop at just a piece?" Hermione asked as she hopped on bit of counter she had cleaned off and grabbed a fork. She simply dug into the entire pie.

This caused Harry to give a full smile. "Seriously, I am not going to share this Harry," she said. This caused Harry to sense a challenge. He dove at Hermione. As Hermione was thoroughly enjoying the pie, her reflexes were a bit off making her an easy target.

Harry attacked her sides and she began convulsing with giggles as he tickled her.

"Harry!" she breathed, "That is not fair!...I'm going to drop the pie!"

Luckily they both could perform wandless magic and the well known levitation charm was utilized to spare the pie a dire fate. The pie hovered in midair above the storm in the kitchen.

Now having her hands free, Hermione bolted from Harry and ran from the kitchen. Obviously Harry followed her. They ran through the lower levels of the House of Black howling with laughter. Thankfully Kreecher was long gone. Only the moanings of the less than charming portrait of Mrs. Black disturbed the laughter of the two young people.

Though years had passed since the tragedies they faced as school fellows, this was the first time the two had truly laughed and played. Finally, Harry caught Hermione. Now in all reality, he could have caught her almost instantly, he was the youngest Seeker in a century, but he was enjoying himself. He happened to have caught her in the hall, in front of that despised portrait that no one could quite remove.

"Honestly, did you think you could escape me?" Harry asked mimicking Hermione.

Hermione was too winded from laughing and running to respond. She just smiled at him. She was lightened by the laughter and her eyes had some of the long lost glimmer in them. Harry found himself stilled, he remembered the girl who had asked about a boy's toad. Hermione sensed this too. The two stood for a moment simply staring at each other as if they had never seen the other before this very moment.

In a way, it was true. For seven years they were mates in school. They were warriors in a war. They were survivors of a horror. This was the first moment where the two began to live again. This was a moment where yet again they became something different.

At this moment something pulled Harry forward toward Hermione. Lost somewhere between surprise and expectation, Hermione begun to close the distance too. In another moment that had as momentous implications as the moment Lily gave all her love to her son, the two heroes of the wizarding world met in a simple kiss.

Like any other pair of young people, they enjoyed the kiss. Thus it was unsurprising that the two of them stumbled back against the wall. Actually, it was not the wall, but the portrait that Hermione was backed into as Harry and she continued their first true kiss. They shifted a bit again causing both their bodies to now be touching the painting. Lost in each other they did not notice a most startling effect, at least until the portrait began to spark.

While Harry thought the sparks he saw through his closed eyes were merely the proverbial fireworks, Hermione was a bit more practical. This could also be due to the effects of the sparks hitting her bare forearm. She suddenly broke the kiss with a yelp.

"Ah!" she exclaimed, "What is that from?" Both summoned their wands instantly and turned around in a circle. They then saw the painting.

Slowly the painting was smoldering from the edges in towards the portrait proper. The curtain previously covering it was gone. The image of Mrs. Black stared in horror as she was slowly engulfed in flames.

Hermione and Harry stood in awe. Harry was alternately ecstatic and horrified, not to mention puzzled. No one could remove that awful portrait. He had no clue as to why it was now obviously destroyed. As he thought that, the gilded frame fell to the floor and shattered.

Hermione, a bit more analytical, began to process the preceding events. Her intellect and the female disposition to overanalyze assisted in this. Again, she quickly surmised the correct interpretation.

"Harry, don't you see, it was the energy flowing from us, as we, uh, you know, that caused the portrait to finally disintegrate!" she excitedly told Harry. She may be the brightest witch of the age, but it didn't make speaking of her feelings any easier.

"So you're saying that our kiss caused the end of the portrait?" Harry slowly said as he turned again to look at Hermione.

"Yes, that's right," she said.

"Oh," Harry said in summary.

"Yeah," Hermione said, suddenly shy, eyes averted.

"Well Mrs. Black obviously didn't like that," Harry said chuckling. He quieted and asked, "But, uh, Hermione, what did you think?"

Hermione was unsure of how to respond. For the witch with all the answers, she had no ready reply. As usual, Harry took the worst possible meaning from her pause. His face fell and he began to turn away to return to the kitchen.

"Harry! Where are you going?" Hermione panicked as he began to leave.

"Well, I just thought…" he began and drifted into silence.

"Harry, don't think. That's my job," Hermione teased, finally looking up at Harry.

Now Harry, the poor dear, still was utterly confused by the females of the world, so he was without a doubt befuddled by Hermione right now.

"Contrary to popular belief, Harry, I don't always have the answer to every question asked. And that question was a particularly difficult one," she explained. "I wasn't thinking Harry. Likely for the first time in my entire life I did not have a coherent thought in my head. When you kissed me my mind turned off. I wasn't thinking, I was only feeling and frankly that was a bit scary for me, Harry."

"Oh," the ever eloquent Harry replied. "That's new."

"Yeah," Hermione said having used up all her explanations.

"So what were you feeling then?" Harry asked having not really gotten an answer.

"I don't know. I've never felt that before, ever," Hermione weakly said.

"Well, maybe you need to feel it again," Harry said becoming a bit more of the impish young man he should be. Before Hermione could think, speak, or react, he was kissing her again.

The sudden and much more intense kiss, well, let's be honest, snog, again made Hermione stumble back to the wall. For the next few moments the two were lost to the world. Thus, they again did not notice a few changes in the so-called Noble House of Black.

Finally the two came up for air but did not separate themselves. In fact, Hermione uncharacteristically nestled closer to Harry. Harry, uncharacteristically liked the embrace and held her tighter. Never had Harry liked the clingy sort of girls and never had Hermione ever displayed such emotional dependence.

Harry always had a house to live in, be it the Dursleys or Hogwarts as a child, then Sirius's as an adult. He had never had a home. In fact, he never before realized what the difference between the two was. In this moment, Harry found what home means. Hermione made his home.

Hermione who had lost so much and been drifting since the losses of the war found that she was finally in the present moment. Usually she was lost in the past or thinking despondently of the future. Now she found her rock, her home in this moment with Harry.

As they both relished the unexpected feelings so suddenly evoked, the House of Black changed dramatically. We all know that small children express the first hints of magic when they are frightened or upset. Well, it appears that the unshielded emotions from the two most powerful wizards of this age caused a bit of a stir in the dreary house.

The dingy, grey walls which contained the pompous decorations of a House of prejudice and hate were overwhelmed. In those moments that Harry and Hermione were forming an irreversible bond, so different from their childhood filial love, the House of Black became the House of Potter.

The grey faded to cream. Dark wood furniture covered with awful black upholstery became warm cherry wood covered with golds and reds. Portraits of the far from loved Black family were instantaneously replaced with portraits and photographs of those beloved by the pair. The tapestry of the Black family tree became a tapestry of the Order and the families of Hermione and Harry. Perhaps the greatest difference is the one it would take the two to the longest to discover. Above Harry's rooms on the second floor would be a new set of rooms containing all the items from Hermione's small flat.

For now the two pulled away from each other and took in the much brighter hallway. The cream and gold wallpaper light by golden sconces invited them to explore the changes. Holding hands the two looked into each room and reminisced over each portrait. Yes, today was quite a different sort of day.


	3. Different Day

She looked around at the faces. They were staring intently back. Some with soft smiles, some with tears, some with a mixture of both. She saw the important faces. She saw the faces not there.

Yes, this was not how she had pictured this moment all those years ago. The room was smaller, simpler than her childhood visions. Those she thought she could not live without were not there.

Yet, her life was before her. While she knew that she would live, she saw happiness before her. A different happiness from those days at Hogwarts.

He, well, he only saw one face. As a child he had not envisioned this. As a child he had seen a different future, one of independence, free from the burdens of his family. As a youth he had envisioned a future, a different one. Now, with this vision before him, he knew that he no longer needed to envision a future.

She proceeded, unescorted. He stared, uninhibited. They met. Their hands joined.

The woman both saw as mother, so different from their natural mothers, began to weep. Her eldest son wrapped his arm over her shoulders. This was a beautiful day, she thought, but not what she had always seen for these two young people. Her thoughts wandered. The family clock looked markedly unlike it did when she first welcomed the young man into her home as a child. Several hands were missing, but two new ones had appeared the night of that fateful battle. Yes, this mother who had lost children became mother to these two orphans.

Everyone learns that things do not go as expected. Most learn in the usual way when the normal bumps occur on the road of life. Those in this room learned that things turn out differently due to some of the worse tragedies. However, each chose to find strength and happiness, even if it was other than what they expected from life.

So on this day, which would have marked their best friends birthday, two heroes were wed. Since he couldn't be there in body, they chose to have him present in spirit. Since neither had living parents, they chose to stand alone knowing at the end of the day, they would never be alone again.

Yes, on the day that Harry and Hermione wed, the world was reminded that though things are unexpected, even painful, life continues. Choices are made. Happiness can be found. Though it be different, it is right.


End file.
